Fathers and Sons, a short story with a Father's Day Theme
by Corncakes
Summary: Mingo, the son of a noted British Governor has a little adventure in Williamsburg, meeting up with the son of another noted patriot.


Fathers and Sons

Mingo's arms ached like a toothache; so did his back. That tends to happen when you have been sitting on the cold dirt floor of a jail for the last six hours, your arms chained to the wall over your head.

"Shackles," the Cherokee man thought to himself. "As if I would be able to break through the locked iron door of the Williamsburg jail. Why shackle me to the wall? All I tried to do was overtake the three constables who were attempting to detain me."

Mingo had to try and see the humor, if any, in his present situation. It's like Daniel always says, "Mingo, when you travel alone, without me, you tend to get yourself in trouble."

He should have known better than to try and enter the Governor General of Virginia's palace in Williamsburg through the main gate. Especially when the guard on duty was not one he recognized or one who recognized him as being the son of Lord Dunsmore, the Governor General himself.

The more he insisted, the faster the constables slapped him in irons and threw him in the jail cell. Hopefully Daniel would arrive sooner than later. The big man was to meet Mingo at Wetherburn's Tavern to eat. He had assured Daniel that the business with his father would be done in time for him to buy his tall friend their evening meal. Little had he known, he would not even get inside to see his father.

Mingo knew this offense was not a serious one, unlike horse stealing, which would have had a noose around his neck in no time flat. This was, in a sense, disturbing the peace at most; if Daniel didn't find him, he would be in jail for maybe thirty days. But Mingo wasn't worried, Daniel would find him before that happened. When it came to a free meal, Daniel Boone would go to the ends of the earth to get it, especially if Mingo was buying. The Cherokee man would just have to sit and wait and try to think of something besides his aching back and arms.

He let his mind wander to a little lodge on Birch Tree River near Boonesborough, where his wife, Songbird, and their six month old son were probably working in their garden. It made him laugh to think of the little boy they named Ken-tah-teh. A family of his own was something Mingo never thought about until he met his beautiful wife. Now he could think of nothing else but getting home to them. The image of them in his heart helped take his mind off the pain. Finally he fell asleep.

********************

Mingo woke to the abrupt and unruly entrance of another prisoner. The cell was still dark and only when the iron door opened did some light come through. All Mingo could make out were the outlines of two guards escorting the unhappy man in, another holding a lantern, while they shackled him to the wall across from him.

"You will be sorry," the man shouted in his unmistakable English accent. "I demand my release immediately or you will suffer the consequences."

"Ha!" the jailer with the lantern scoffed. "We'll see what the Provincial Congress of New Jersey has to say about that. Maybe you should have listened to your father." The three guards continued to laugh as the heavy iron door slammed shut.

That was a sound that sent ice running through Mingo's veins. He hated not being outside with the sky overhead and the earth beneath his feet. But what he really hated was the sound of a door being locked behind him. It brought back too many memories.  
In the darkness with his acute hearing, Mingo could hear the man take a deep breath so as to shout some more to the guards.

"Save your breath, Sir," Mingo said. "It will do you no good to shout. I don't believe they can hear anything from inside the cell once that iron door is shut."

There was no response.

Mingo continued. "I expect they will come back once the sun comes up and after they have had their morning meal. Williamsburg jail is one of the more civilized jails in the colonies. They should at some point let us go outside in the yard for a few minutes. I would warn you though these colonists are good shots. Escape might not be a good idea."

Still no response.

Mingo would give it one more try and then be satisfied to mind his own matters.  
"Until then," he said. "as hard as it sounds, the less one moves around, the less the irons will cut into your wrists. The more you struggle, the worse it will be. I assure you."

Once the other man stopped struggling, his breathing went back to normal. Finally, he spoke,

" It sounds as though you have been in this situation before, Sir. I, however, am not used to being in the presence of a common criminal. Although I must say, you do not talk like one. Your speech is that of an educated man."

Mingo chuckled, "My father would be most pleased to hear you say that. I was educated at Oxford and I assure you I am not of the criminal element. I just have a tendency of being detained more often than white…," he hesitated, "more often than most men."

"I am familiar with Oxford," the man answered, " Several years ago I was awarded a Master of Arts degree from there, at the same time they awarded an honorary degree to my father."

"Your father must be a fine man," Mingo said, "Oxford doesn't hand out honorary degrees to just anyone."

The other man cleared his throat,

"Yes… a fine man. Unfortunately this so-called uprising against the King has come between us. He has chosen to side with these Colonial hooligans. For that I am sorry."

The normally private Cherokee felt a bit of a kinship to this man whose tone obviously was one of regret in the matter of his father. A feeling Mingo felt sometimes himself.

"It would seem we have more than just an Oxford education in common. My father and I also do not see eye to eye in the present goings on, but we have agreed to disagree," Mingo said.

"Well said. I guess you could say it is the same with my father and me. It is like looking into a mirror, talking with you, Sir. That is if we could see each other." The other man answered.

Mingo laughed. "Fathers and sons….my father is the reason I am being detained by these fine fellows. I was trying to get into the Governor's Palace to speak to him when the guards had me arrested for trespassing."

"Oh my," the man started laughing.

"Did I say something amusing?" Mingo asked him.

"If you only knew," the man continued. "I am being detained for the same reason, or one of the reasons anyway. I was also trying to get in to see the Governor General.  
Your father, does he work for him?"

The Cherokee thought twice and then answered, "No, actually he is the Governor General."

"Really, you are the son of John Murray, Lord of Dunsmore, and the Governor General of Virginia?" the man asked.

"That is correct, Sir." Mingo answered.

It was quiet for a moment, then the man continued. "So then you too are no longer loyal to the King? You and my father would get along quite well I expect."

"As would you and my father," Mingo added.

"If ever you are in Philadelphia you might want to look him up," the man told Mingo.

Just then the iron door opened up,

"All right, gentlemen," the jailer's voice said. "Time to go outside and wash up before you two go before the Magistrate if and when he shows up later today. Now we're going to unlock those shackles and don't you try anything. My guards have you both covered."

There was a little more light in the cell now. Mingo could make out the barrels of two long rifles pointed on each of them. They unshackled the other man first and took him outside. Then they unshackled him. He knew enough to bring his arms down to his sides slowly, easing the stretched out muscles back into place.

"Ahhh," Mingo groaned softly.

"Get going," the guard with the rifle said.

Mingo stepped outside, covering his eyes to let them get used to the sunlight. He could see the other man he shared the cell with at a bucket washing. He also was being guarded at gunpoint. The guard nudged the Cherokee with his rifle.

"Go on," he said.

Mingo walked over to a second bucket and began washing his face, neck, and arms. He rinsed off and let the sun dry him as there were no towels. He could see that the other prisoner was looking around to see if they had brought out his cell mate. He looked twice at the Indian.

Mingo put out his hand and smiled,

"Not quite like looking into a mirror, is it, Sir?"

Obviously the man recognized Mingo's deep rich voice.

"You're a savage!" the man said.

Mingo was used to the word and had long since learned to control his temper until he could see a confrontation was inevitable. In this case he knew they would both be locked in a cell again soon. And seeing how Daniel hadn't made an appearance yet, he didn't know how long it would be. So why start anything, and besides he liked this man who seemed to have much in common with him, even if they were on opposite sides.

Before Mingo could speak, the man took his hand and shook it.

"I do apologize," he said, "I had no right to say that to you. I just wasn't expecting…what I mean to say is."

Mingo laughed, "You were not expecting beads and braids and buckskin with a polished tongue such as your own. Am I correct in saying that?"

"In that you are correct, Sir. I mean Mr. Murray."

By this time, one of the guards came over to them.

"If you two promise to behave yourselves so we don't have to shoot you, we'll feed you out here before we lock you up again."

"You have our word, Constable." Mingo answered.

It was a meager morning meal of coffee and bread. They sat them down on a bench to let them eat. The sun felt good on Mingo's face.

"By the way, it isn't Mr. Murray. I gave up my father's name when I returned to my mother's people, the Cherokee. My name is Mingo." He explained how he was raised in London by his father after his mother's death, much to his resentment.

They shook hands again.

"And your name if I may ask?"

"Franklin, William Franklin." The man answered.

Mingo's dark eyes opened wide.

"Franklin? Philadelphia and Franklin?"

The man nodded.

"Your father is Benjamin Franklin?"

"Now you are correct, Sir." The man answered.

"When I said your father was a fine man, that now is an understatement.  
Benjamin Franklin is a great man. I met him once quite briefly." Mingo told him.

"And I could say the same about your father. Being that I am, or was, the Governor General of New Jersey I have met your father as well."

Just then a tall shadow of a man crossed the yard.

"Daniel," Mingo stood up quickly. "It's about time. Where have you been?"

"Lookin' for you, that's where. What do I always tell you, Mingo?"

" I know, I know." The Cherokee answered. "Daniel, you will never guess who this gentleman is, besides being my cell mate for the last twelve hours."

"William Franklin," the tall man said. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Daniel Boone."

"My pleasure, Mr. Boone."

Mingo shook his head, "Daniel, how do you do that?"

"Well, Mingo, when I explained to the Constable why you were tryin' to break into the Governor's Palace, they dropped the charges. They told me about the other man in the cell with you. I'm sorry, William, but you have a more serious charge against you. Running from the Provincial Congress is a little more than I can help you with."

"That's all right, Mr. Boone. I was hoping Lord Dunsmore might help me get back to London, but it sounds as though he might be on the run soon himself . These are trying times we are living in."

Daniel put out his hand,

"Take good care, William. I'll tell your father the next time I see him what a gentleman his son is. Mingo, I'll meet you at the gate. You still owe me dinner!"

Mingo turned to his cell mate. "William, in another time and place I think we would have been good friends."

"I think you are right, Mingo. If and when I see your father, I will tell him what a gentleman his son is."

Mingo picked up his mug of now cold coffee. William did the same.

"To Fathers and Sons," Mingo said.

"To Fathers and Sons," William repeated.

They touched mugs, and took the last drink of coffee.

Mingo started toward the gate and his freedom. He turned to see the guards walking William Franklin back into the jail cell.

"God speed, William Franklin," Mingo said softly.

The End

Note to Reader:

William Franklin was the illegitimate son of Benjamin Franklin. He was raised in the Colonies and helped his father with many of his scientific endeavors. William was the last Colonial Governor of New Jersey. William was a steadfast Loyalist(loyal to the King) throughout the Revolutionary War, despite his father's role as one of the most prominent patriots during the conflict, a difference that tore the two apart.

William remained as Governor until he was arrested by the Provincial Congress of New Jersey in 1776. For two years he was held as a prisoner of war in Connecticut. When finally released in 1778, he fled to New York City, which was still occupied by the British. In 1782 he left with many other Loyalists back to England, never to return to the Colonies. 


End file.
